


kiss me like you cook your karaage - slowly, and then all at once

by floatyourself



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bad Cooking, Drinking, Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Heavy Drinking, M/M, Making Out, Mild Language, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, atsumu thinks he's the goat, not beta'd once again, osamu panics over akaashi, sakusa is the voice of reason in this entire fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27164209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floatyourself/pseuds/floatyourself
Summary: The rules of the universe state that whenever something good or bad happens, it's always best to blame Atsumu for it.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Sakusa Kiyoomi, Akaashi Keiji/Miya Osamu, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 150





	kiss me like you cook your karaage - slowly, and then all at once

**Author's Note:**

> i have no words for this, its just one bad joke made into a fic so please just enjoy. i've edited this a bit but i might've missed some stuff w the details so i apologize in advance! title is based on the fault in our stars but make it food and osaaka being silly idiots in love

December 31

Osahuhigashi, Osaka

8:45 in the evening 

Osamu had generally developed a strong tolerance and the patience of a saint when it came to dealing with his twin brother’s nonsense, but today? He was a second away from strangling Atsumu and making him wish he had never been born.

He had decided to spend the New Year’s with Atsumu, and had made the trip from Hyogo all the way to Osaka where the MSBY team was currently based. Right now, Osamu was standing in front of Atsumu’s apartment while holding alcohol in one hand and groceries in the other, having been convinced - or rather, forced - by his twin to set up and make some food for their annual New Year celebration with a few of Atsumu’s MSBY teammates.

He rarely did anything his brother ordered him to do, but Atsumu had cashed in on a favor as he owed the other for recommending Onigiri Miya to a new customer (who Osamu will decidedly Not think about right now). Their visitors were set to arrive by 10pm, and so Osamu had closed up Onigiri Miya to make room for the one and a half hour travel time, so he could have enough time to prepare everything for later.

Right now, he wished he had stayed at Onigiri Miya even later. Who cares if he was late anyway? It was just Atsumu.

Dialling Atsumu’s number on his phone, Osamu rapped his knuckles at the front door. “Open the door ya idiot,” he grumbled as he waited for Atsumu to answer his phone.

“Hello? I said open the door! I know yer in there!”

Atsumu had the habit of disregarding other people’s time, forgetting schedules, and just generally ignoring what he was supposed to do once he decided he didn’t feel like doing it anymore except when it was volleyball. Knowing his twin’s tendencies, the blonde was probably barricading himself in his apartment, as he realized that Osamu would force him to clean the apartment and help him cook - two of the chores he hated the most. How Atsumu ever got Sakusa to date him given his tendencies was something Osamu would never fathom.

But Atsumu had started to routinely sanitize and clean his apartment after dating Sakusa. It wouldn’t make sense for him to ignore Osamu for chores then. It was either that or — no.

Osamu sighed, a realization suddenly forming.

Atsumu was probably asleep again. Having shared a room growing up because twins were something of a package deal, Osamu knew that Atsumu slept like the fucking dead and it would take an elephant stampede or a volleyball to the face for him to wake up. (He actually did try the volleyball thing, and it worked most of the time back when they were in high school. Kita-san was not pleased to see Atsumu with a volleyball shaped bump on his forehead even before practice started, but it kept the twins punctual and tidy, and so Osamu was let off the hook every single time, much to Atsumu’s chagrin.) The dumbass probably went to train and worked out too hard that he ended up passing out of fatigue.

What an idiot.

Osamu set the grocery bags down and took out his phone. Maybe Atsumu’s loud as fuck ringtone would wake him up.

_Ring, ring._

_Sorry, the number you are calling is currently unavailable. Please try your call later._   
_Sorry, the number you are calling is currently unavai—_

_Fuck_.

“Tsumu. Wake up and open the fuckin’ door Tsumu!” Shifting from one feet to another,he ended the call and scrolled through the contacts in his phone.

“Open the goddamn door or I swear to God I’m gonna tell Sakusa ya didn’t clean up yer place,” he threatened lamely, banging on the door loudly to wake his twin up.

His hands were getting numb from holding the grocery bags and his legs were aching for having been standing for the past 45 minutes. This wasn’t part of what Osamu signed up for. He did not agree to make food and buy the ingredients out of his own pocket without any compensation for Atsumu to lock him out of his apartment — albeit unintentionally — and waste his time shivering outside from the cold December air.

Maybe I should call Sakusa. He probably has a key to this place.

Dialing Sakusa’s contact information, Osamu put his phone on his ear and waited.

At the second ring, Sakusa picked up.

“Miya-san?” Sakusa’s voice was a mix of annoyance, genuine concern, and irritation. He sighed. “Did Atsumu do something again?”

Osamu felt a small smile tug at his lips at hearing Sakusa’s fondness seep through his otherwise annoyed tone. He knew how it felt to simultaneously love his brother, but want to bash his head in at the same time. (It came with the package of dealing with one Miya Atsumu, you see.) The two of them were so sappy it was disgusting, but Osamu was happy that Atsumu finally found his match in Sakusa, though he would never say it out loud.

“Ah, about that,” Osamu scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “I was wondering if ya had a key to his apartment, because I think the knobhead is sleeping again and I have to go use his kitchen ta make the food he asked for tonight.”

Sakusa hummed at the end of the line. “He hasn’t woken up from the knocking and the noise?”

“Yeah, Tsumu sleeps like the dead. I need ta cook the stuff I brought for later, and I can’t do that if he won’t let me in.” Osamu scowled, and fiddled with the doorknob. It was in times like these he really regretted not learning how to pick a lock from Suna.

“I don’t have a key to his apartment, though I did hear Bokuto has and he was planning to go earlier than all of us.”

As if sensing Osamu’s confusion over Atsumu giving his teammate but not his boyfriend a key Sakusa hurriedly added, “Atsumu gave Bokuto a key because they always train together, and they meet up at his place before working out.”

“I see,” Osamu murmured absentmindedly. It was pretty weird, but strangely in character for Atsumu to do that kind of thing.

“Myaa-sam!”

Osamu whipped around and turned to see Bokuto running towards him, trying to engulf him in a hug.

He held up a hand and gestured to his phone and Bokuto pouted, but still skidded to a stop.

Sakusa, having heard Bokuto’s voice from the call, spoke up. “I see Bokuto is already there.”

“Yeah, thanks for the help, Sakusa-kun, I’ll see you later,” Osamu ended the call and pocketed his phone before being met by Bokuto’s arms wrapping around him in a hug tightly.

“Have you been waiting long? Omi-kun told me Tsum-tsum wouldn’t let you in so I brought my key along!” Bokuto grinned triumphantly as he flashed his key in front of Osamu. “Tsum-tsum wouldn’t mind if we entered his apartment so,” Bokuto turned the doorknob, “Here you go!”

Osamu smiled in gratitude at the spiker. “Thank you, I’ve been waiting out here for almost an hour now.” He bent down and started to pick up the grocery bags he had set down earlier, but almost dropped the alcohol out of surprise when he saw another hand holding some of the grocery bags already.

This hand isn’t Bokuto’s, Osamu thought. His eyes followed the hand, trailed up the stranger’s arms, and finally, finally, Osamu looked up.

 _Fuck_.

Standing in front of him was Akaashi Keiji – Bokuto’s former teammate turned manga editor, Onigiri Miya’s customer of the month, Osamu’s current concern, and cause of his heart palpitations and shaking hands today.

_Act calm. Act calm Osamu. Yer hot shit, what’s there to panic about?_

“Fukurodani’s setter,” Osamu offered an utterly soft smile at Keiji – shit, wait no he shouldn’t have done that, everyone would see he was whipped as fuck -- , brushing his hand which was holding the grocery bag against the other’s hand – which was also holding a grocery bag -- as a greeting.

A light blush dusted Akaashi’s cheeks.

Did he just blush from our contact? Osamu thought giddily. Would Atsumu throw a fit if he wasn’t the best man? He suddenly wondered. I was thinking of lavender for the wedding’s color scheme but if Keiji wants another maybe I can adjust?

 _Nah, shut yer trap Samu, yer bein’ delusional again_ , Osamu scolded himself, his inner voice sounding scarily like Atsumu’s.

“Ah, Myaa-sam, good evening. Bokuto-san asked me to accompany him, so I hope you don’t mind me tagging along.” Akaashi gripped the grocery bags in one hand and shifted from one foot to another, looking down in…. Embarrassment? Shyness? Osamu didn’t know, but he didn’t think about it anymore because it felt like his brain had suddenly failed on him at the sight of Akaashi Keiji.

Osamu took in the sight of Akaashi from head to toe. Wow, Akaashi looked...soft. Osamu thought. He was dressed in a fluffy brown cardigan and black jeans, and... is that what Osamu thought it was? Akaashi Keiji had sweater paws peeking from down below.

Akaashi Keiji had fuckin’ sweater paws.

Osamu felt his heartbeat speeding up even more. What should he say? Was it weird if he told Akaashi he looked very pretty tonight? Was it socially acceptable for him to even do that, when their only relation was customer and chef-wise? Were they even considered friends? Did Akaashi think of him as a friend? An acquaintance? Did he know Osamu wanted to be his friend and hold his hand and kiss him and be his boyfriend? Shit, did his smile give him away earlier? He probably looked like a love-struck fool, but maybe Akaashi didn’t notice? Wait no, Akaashi is waiting for his reply. What should he say?

“TSUM-TSUM, WAKE UP!” Bokuto, who had already strolled inside the apartment and was currently outside of Atsumu’s bedroom, yelled out loud – breaking Osamu out from his stupor.

“Bokkun,” Atsumu could be heard groaning angrily - or as much as one could sound angry when having just woken up - from the bedroom. “Can’t ya see a man was sleepin’ here?”

“You have a second ta get away from me before I close the door on your face, Bokkun.”

“W-wait! Tsum-tsum, I just wanted to spend more time with you!” Bokuto’s blubbered, his whines reaching all the way out into the hallway, where Akaashi and Osamu were still standing.

“I feel bad for Atsumu’s neighbors,” Osamu quipped, “They probably have to deal with the two of them yelling all the time.”

Akaashi laughed at Osamu’s comment. “They probably do,” he admitted. “I’ve had Bokuto call me way too many times just asking if he had accidentally offended Atsumu or something.” He cleared his throat. “Shall we enter then?” He gestured to the door left ajar in front of the two of them.

“Yeah, let’s go. Thanks for coming along Akaashi-kun.” Osamu tipped his cap and followed Akaashi into the kitchen. Maybe prepping the food will help distract him from the man at his side right now.

**

10 o’clock in the evening

Prepping the food did not distract Osamu from his current crisis named Akaashi Keiji at all. If anything, his crisis distracted him from the food he was currently preparing. After Bokuto had woken up Atsumu, the two of them went on a cleaning spree because “Omi-kun wouldn’t step a foot into the room if we don’t sanitize everything twice!”, leaving Akaashi to meander around the apartment mindlessly, and finally ending up watching Osamu cook behind the kitchen counter.

Osamu could only thank whatever was out there for the fact that he hadn’t fumbled through chopping the meat to be used for their yakiniku later and had thankfully kept all his fingers intact. If Akaashi saw Osamu’s fingers shake every once in a while, he made no mention of it. All in all there was a - dare he say it - pretty homey and warm atmosphere in the kitchen, with Akaashi swinging his legs on the kitchen stool while Osamu was currently washing some vegetables he decided he would chop and steam later - an added meal for Atsumu and a tactic force his twin to eat more vegetables as well..

“Myaa-sam,” Akaashi suddenly spoke, drumming his fingers on the table, legs still swinging.

“Yeah?” Osamu turned around as he set the vegetables aside and poured out rice flour and cornstarch for a karaage coating, eyeballing the measurements for the two.

Akaashi leaned forward from his seat and cupped a hand on his cheek, looking up at the chef. For a second, it felt like they were at Onigiri Miya again, and Akaashi was watching him make onigiri for the nth time, which was fine for Osamu, really. It helped him feel more at ease and not think about how his current concern was currently sitting in front of him and actually conversing with him outside of onigiri - which was familiar territory for the both of them.

“Can I help? With what you’re making, I mean.”

“M’sorry, Bokuto told me to keep an eye out on you while we’re in the kitchen, though I don’t exactly know why,” Osamu apologized, remembering how Bokuto had pulled him aside earlier.

**

_“Hey, if Akaashi asks to help in the kitchen or even just stays in the kitchen, I need you to watch out for him. Can I trust you, Myaa-sam?”_

_Osamu had never seen Bokuto look so serious until now, and his tight grip on Osamu’s shoulder was really helping to seal his impression._

_Osamu nodded, though he didn’t really understand the context of their discussion._

_“Got it, Bokkun.”_

_Bokuto’s facial expression changed from one of seriousness to the regular, happy go-lucky expression that he always wore._

_“That’s good to hear then!” Bokuto slapped Osamu’s back lightheartedly and — Jesus, did all pro volleyball players’ backslaps hurt like that? Must come with the territory of being a spiker._

_“I’m gonna go help Tsum-tsum clean the whole place now. We don’t want him throwing a fit again when Sakusa refuses to enter the room,” Bokuto shuddered, remembering a recent incident where the exact same thing happened, before walking away and leaving Osamu all alone_

**

Akaashi cupped his other hand onto his cheek and frowned, eyes squinty and lips pouting and pointed down.

“No one ever lets me in the kitchen since I cooked dinner and broke the fire alarm at the same time,” Akaashi responded, looking even more poutier at the thought of the incident.

He’s so cute. Osamu’s internal monologue was a mess right now, and it took all of his willpower to stop his eyes from drifting towards Akaashi’s pouting lips.

“Didya just ask to help and then confess ya have a genuine lack of skill in cooking? Do you want me to pretend I didn’t just hear ya admit yer terrible in the kitchen?” Osamu asked jokingly, stirring the mixture in his bowl.

Akaashi frowned. “Are you making fun of me Myaa-sam?”

Osamu shrugged, a teasing glint in his eye. “Depends on how ya look at it Akaashi-kun. No need for the Myaa-sam, by the way. All my friends call me Osamu.”

Akaashi huffed, but nodded anyway. “Okay, Osamu.”

If Osamu wasn’t sure about his feelings about Akaashi before, hearing him say his first name just sealed the deal for him now. But Osamu didn’t have the luxury to wallow in his currently growing feelings. He had a twin to feed, and an angel right in front of him waiting to see him work.

Rummaging around the grocery bags they brought in before, he grabbed the chicken and took it out of its plastic wrap, washing it by the sink. Akaashi looked on curiously, eyes wide like a kid seeing magic for the very first time.

Granted, Akaashi always saw him prepare food at Onigiri Miya but something was different this time. The air was charged with static, and Osamu could feel Akaashi’s wide, piercing eyes on his back.

He ignored the fluttering in his stomach, his insides twisting ever so slightly at having had a very long and still ongoing interaction with Akaashi.

God has his favorites, and one of them is Miya Osamu.

“Here.” Osamu placed the chicken he had marinated consisting of soy sauce, sake, ginger and garlic earlier and placed them in one plate in front of Akaashi, as well as the bowl full of rice flour and starch that he was mixing and incorporating together earlier.

At the sight of the ingredients in front of him, Akaashi broke out into a large grin, cheeks with a tinge of red pushing up, nose scrunched and eyes squinting up happily. “Osamu,” he paused. “Is this what I think it is?”

Osamu grabbed a stool and sat down across from Akaashi, mimicking his position and placing one hand on his cheek.

“Coating karaage’s pretty harmless, but I’ll watch over in case something goes wrong. Is that alright with ya?”

Akaashi thought for a second before he nodded enthusiastically, squirming in his seat with excitement. “So I just dip both sides of the chicken right?”

Osamu laughed at the look at Akaashi’s face and nodded in affirmation. “I don’t know how you could possibly mess something as simple like this up. Go on, I’ll wait for ya to finish and we can fry ‘em together.”

A comfortable silence settled upon the both of them, Akaashi focusing on the food and Osamu focusing on, well, Akaashi himself.

He watched as Akaashi dipped the chicken, spreading the coating evenly on every side meticulously. It was a very basic process in cooking, but Akaashi looked like he was enjoying every second of it, handling the meat gently each time.

“It was back when I got my first job,” Akaashi suddenly spoke, grabbing another piece of chicken and dipping it into the flour mixture.

“Hmm?” Osamu stood from his place and went to the fridge. “Keep going, I’m just going to chop some vegetables for later. Whaddya mean about yer job?”

Akaashi laughed softly at the memory. “I got my first job, and I made dinner to celebrate,” he clarified. “I had invited Kenma and the others, and I thought I should host a small party for it.”

He held up the plate full of raw food. “This is already done.”

“Just put it near the stove,” Osamu replied, looking towards where Akaashi was seated.

“Mm, okay so,” Akaashi headed over towards the stove, “Do you still need the mixture?”

The two of them were side by side on the kitchen counter, Osamu with his chopping board on the left, and Akaashi standing near the stove and the sink on the right.

Osamu paused in the middle of chopping and shook his head. “Nah, not really. You can just throw it away already.”

“Got it.”

Another comfortable silence settled between the two, both of them busy with their respective tasks. Akaashi had taken to washing the used bowls, as well as the other silverware Osamu had used in cooking earlier in the sink.

As they continued with their tasks, Osamu felt himself starting to relax even more - even if it was just slightly. Akaashi was a good companion in the kitchen and didn’t get in Osamu’s way when he was cooking, which he appreciated greatly. The other man was humming a lighthearted tune as he scrubbed the dishes, swaying a bit to the tune he made up.

Out of the corner of his eye, Osamu watched Akaashi sway while washing the dishes. This was better than having Atsumu in the kitchen, who messed everything up, licked the spoon used for cooking, and only ever had a pleasant personality when he was trying to convince Osamu to give him a free taste.

Clearing his throat, Osamu decided to speak. He was not going to let this opportunity to get to know the other go to waste. Miya Osamu wasn’t born and raised as a quitter after all.

“Akaashi-kun?”

Akaashi, who was rinsing the remaining plates, stopped humming. “Yes, Osamu?”

“Ya never did finish your story about why you got banned from the kitchen.”

Akaashi placed the dishes on the drying rack and wiped his hands on a kitchen towel. “Can we save the story for another time? The more I think about it,” he cringes, “the more I just want to erase that memory forever.”

“You were the one to start it!” Osamu protested, giving Akaashi the most half-hearted glare he could muster. “If anything, yer required to finish what ya started. You can’t just leave me hangin’ here, Akaashi-kun.”

“Tell you what, Osamu. Please let me cook - if only to prove myself to Bokuto, and I’ll tell you the full story.”

“No, no I shouldn’t,” Osamu waved him off. “Ya just go sit down there and look pretty. I don’t want Bokuto and Atsumu storming me down if I let you accidentally set this apartment on fire. Better be safe than sorry.”

“So you think I’m pretty?”

_Wait a second._

“Wh-whaddya mean Akaashi-kun?” Osamu stuttered, a blush forming furiously on his cheeks. “I didn’t say pretty I said to sit there and look.. hungry? Y-yeah! Sit there and look hungry. Ya probably just y’know… misheard?”

“Misheard?” Akaashi shot Osamu a deadpan look, his cheek twitching as he tried to fight back a smile.

“You’re sure about that Osamu?” He stepped towards Osamu until he was in Osamu’s space, eyes crinkled and smile teasing. “ I’m pretty sure hungry’s pronunciation is very different.”

“No it’s not!” Osamu spluttered. “I think yer ear just needs a good cleaning, Akaashi-kun.” He turned away from Akaashi as he slapped his cheeks with his hands, his blush slowly creeping up from his cheeks to his ears.

_Get it together Samu! Yer bein a total loser right now!_

Osamu took a deep breath. “I dunno what yer talkin about, Akaashi-kun, I’m just gunna have ta pretend that I didn’t hear ya say anything then,” Osamu announced and huffed throughout his mortification, and started to hurriedly clean up the chopped vegetables on his workspace, still pointedly ignoring Akaashi, who was watching him with a hint of amusement.

(Osamu wished he could see and focus on Akaashi’s expression at that moment, because he always looked so stunning whenever he smiled, but his pride and mortification prevented him from so much as looking into Akaashi’s eyes right now.)

He placed the vegetables in their respective containers and pointedly refused to look at Akaashi and walked towards the fridge, where he made a mental note to remind Atsumu that he had no choice but to eat vegetables now, since Osamu had already put in the effort to actually prepare some for his twin.

Taking a deep breath, Osamu gathered all his nerves. “And if I said you were pretty, what would you have done about it?”

“I wouldn’t know. I mean, you just told me to be hungry, right?”

If Osamu had looked up from the fridge at that exact time, he would have seen the blush that was slowly creeping up as well on Akaashi’s cheeks, the latter looking embarrassed and surprised.

Alas, Osamu still had his head stuck for a reason. He had actually finished arranging the food inside the fridge a while ago, but hearing Akaashi’s reply to him had sent his heart once again into somersaults and he had decided to not remove his head from the fridge until he cooled down. Also, it was just a really convenient way for him to hide his blush which was threatening to return full force once again.

Once Osamu was sure that he had calmed down and looked somewhat presentable and not at all the flustered mess that he had been a while ago, he closed the fridge and surveyed the kitchen, finally facing the editor. Most of the food had already been prepped, the counters were all wiped down, and all the dishes were already washed - courtesy of Akaashi. All that was left to do now was --

Ah, yes. The actual cooking part.

Osamu prayed that he had enough strength to get through this without his heart giving up on him. It was time to stir the conversation back to food, a safe and generally comfortable topic for Osamu.

“So… D’ya wanna start cooking now?” he gestured to the plate of food Akaashi had prepared earlier, pushing it towards him as a sort of peace offering. “Are ya just gonna watch or…” Osamu trailed off, looking at Akaashi expectantly.

Akaashi grinned. “Let’s go.”

**

Turns out when Bokuto had warned Osamu about Akaashi’s less than stellar cooking skills, he wasn’t exaggerating. Akaashi had almost accidentally managed to get a first degree burn thrice in the span of ten minutes - and the only thing that they had started on was to turn on the stove. Osamu didn’t know how that was even remotely possible, but Akaashi kept surprising him at every turn. In volleyball Akaashi was nimble, accurate. In the kitchen? Akaashi Keiji had honest to God butterfingers, slipping in every way possible.

“No, no Akaashi-kun, ya don’t put water in the pot when it’s been already heated up to check if it’s hot already. It’s gonna sizzle - and not in a really good way,” Osamu quickly reached out and grabbed Akaashi’s wrist to prevent him from sprinkling water with his fingers as he stood behind the other, directing Akaashi on what not to do.

Akaashi frowned before going to wipe his hands on a kitchen towel. “So how do you even know if it’s been heated then?”

“You don’t. You gotta put the oil in and wait for it to boil. That’s how ya know yer oil is hot enough for deep frying.”

“Hm, okay then.” Akaashi had a determined look on his face as he kept an eye out on the oil, never taking his sights away from it for even a second.

Osamu hung back, watching Akaashi with an endeared look on his face.

If Atsumu’s apartment burned down, he thought, it wouldn’t even be that bad since I got to experience this.

Not long after, the crackle and sizzle of the oil rising up could be heard, taking Akaashi by surprise. “The oil is popping! What do I do! Osamu, what do I do!” Akaashi squeaked as he ran and hid behind Osamu, using him as a human shield. Osamu snickered at Akaashi cowering behind him and grabbed some chicken with his chopsticks, submerging them into the hot oil completely.

“C’mere, Akaashi-kun.”

Akaashi, who was still at the back, shook his head, still looking frightened by the loud popping of the oil. “No, what if the oil hits me?”

“It won’t,” Osamu promised. “Weren’t ya the one who wanted to try cooking?”

“I still do, but the oil hurts!” Akaashi glared at the stove, looking like it had committed some sort of mortal sin.

Osamu considered the situation, looking at the stove and then Akaashi, then back to the stove again, an idea forming in his head.

“How about you try placing some chicken? I’ll turn down the fire so the oil doesn’t bother you too much.”

Akaashi considered his suggestion, before making his way to the stove. “Can you stand behind me while I do it? Just in case something happens.”

Once he had turned the fire down, Osamu moved to the side, offering enough space for the other to approach the stove. “Be my guest.” He went and stood behind the other, watching Akaashi with a pair of chopsticks, a piece of chicken held tightly between. Everything was going so well, Osamu thought.

Until he saw Akaashi decided to drop the chicken from a high level, landing in the oil with a loud plop, the sudden weight accidentally putting the pot off balance and threatening to spill over.

“Shit, Akaashi-kun! Get back!” Osamu steadied the pot and grabbed Akaashi away from the stove, before any oil could splatter on them. He waited until the karaage had cooked for a few minutes before dragging Akaashi once again to the stove, inspecting the karaage. It had turned into a golden brown, and Osamu fished out the chicken himself, straining before putting it into a plate.

“Osamu?” Akaashi asked in a tiny voice.

“Yes?” He asked, mildly irritated. Who in their right mind would even think that dropping food from a high level would be a very good idea? Everyone knew that that was a recipe for getting an oil burn immediately. You had to drop it slowly and at a low level, to prevent the oil from accidentally splashing on you.

Akaashi cleared his throat. “You’re still holding my hand.”

Casting his eyes downward, Osamu saw that Akaashi was right - and that his left hand was still intertwined with Akaashi’s right hand.

Like he was suddenly electrocuted, Osamu dropped Akaashi’s hand, and cleared his throat. “I think it would be better if I fried the rest. You just hold the plate when I tell you to do so so that I can transfer the cooked karaage.”

“As you wish, Osamu.” Akaashi nodded obediently. And so they - or more specifically, Osamu - continued cooking.

“Bokuto-san doesn’t need to hear about this, right?”

Osamu nodded seriously. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

**

11:00 in the evening

After the cooking incident, Sakusa had arrived, and Akaashi had taken a liking to the wing spiker, the two of them bonding immediately after their introductions. Having neither Sakusa nor Akaashi around meant that Bokuto and the twins were lumped together which was a recipe for disaster.

While Akaashi and Sakusa were at the living area, conversing in light tones, Bokuto had taken out the case of beer Osamu had brought, and had also whipped out a bottle of shochu, prompting cheers from Atsumu.

“I knew ya were my favorite for a reason, Bokkun.”

Bokuto beamed. “You’re so nice to me, Tsum-tsum!” He poured out shochu from the bottle and gave each twin a glass, while also pouring one for himself.

“We still have an hour to go but, shinnen akemashite omedetou goziamasu!”

“Shinnen akemashite omedetou goziamasu!” the twins chorused, as the three of them downed their drinks together.

Sakusa frowned at the three men at the dining area.

Akaashi looked at what Sakusa was looking at and raised an eyebrow. “Who do you think will get the drunkest between the three of them, Sakusa-kun?”

“It’s either Atsumu or Osamu,” he replied, eyes narrowing as he watched Atsumu challenge the other two to a drinking game. “It all depends on who riles up the other first.”

**

Sakusa was right. Bokuto had passed out in Atsumu’s bedroom because he was sleepy and - _“Going to practice hungover is the worst!”_ to the surprise and approval of Akaashi, and Atsumu and Osamu had migrated to the balcony, sitting on a tiny garden set with bottles littered across the ground.

Atsumu had stopped drinking a while ago, knowing that Bokuto was right about coming to practice with a hangover was probably not the best thing for a professional athlete to do. It didn’t mean however, that Atsumu couldn’t allow himself to get tipsy, and to rile up his younger brother a little more.

“It’s okay Samu,” Atsumu raised his hand flippantly. “It must suck to be the uglier twin amirite?”

Taking a swig of the beer in his hands, Osamu glowered at his brother. “The hell ya talking’ about, ya knobhead?,” his Kansai accent getting thicker. “Big talk coming’ from the one who dyed their hair piss yellow,” Osamu jeered, his vision of Atsumu splitting into two. Since when did he have two Atsumus in sight?

“Tsumu?”  
“Yeah?”

“Why’s there two of ya already?” He clumsily crossed his arms across his chest, the beer spilling a bit onto his shirt. “Go away other Tsumu! I don’t need ta become a triplet!” He scowled at Atsumu, whose cheeks were red from the alcohol as well.

Atsumu bit back a laugh at Osamu’s words. Atsumu wasn’t as far gone as his twin though, and still had his wits with him. It was always entertaining to mess with the younger twin when he got drunk, and Atsumu wasn’t about to let this opportunity go to waste. He placed a hand on his twin’s back, rubbing him consolingly.

“It’s okay ta accept it, Samu. It’s not yer fault I get endorsements and well.. ya don’t.” Atsumu furrowed his brows and pasted a small pout on his face, trying to look as innocent and as concerned as possible. Osamu, who was sitting beside him, head hung low, looked like a hot mess. He had removed his cap earlier and had ran his hands through his hair several times throughout the night, leaving Osamu with the most atrocious hairstyle. His shirt had tiny stains on it from the beer that he had kept spilling throughout the night and he kept nodding off only to suddenly jolt back up, eyes hazy but alert.

A drunk Osamu was always the best Osamu, Atsumu thought. It made for good blackmail material and Osamu always became a hit at parties. He wasn’t about to let Osamu do anything reckless though. He was still his twin and while Atsumu made fun of Osamu most of the time, he kept the teasing and provoking harmless fun when they went drinking.

“Atsumu, what did you do to your twin brother?” Atsumu looked up from his thoughts to see Sakusa looking down at him disapprovingly, face mask and gloves securely in place as he clutched his own drink - from his own personal cup of course. He glared at Atsumu, knowing the setter was cooking up another scheme at the expense of his twin again. “How many drinks has he had?”

Atsumu shrugged innocently. “How am I supposed to know, Omi-kun? It’s not like I kept watch over him the entire night!”

“You played drinking games with him and with Bokuto knowing you would win most of the games.” Sakusa pointed out with a deadpan glare, having watched his boyfriend drink himself silly with his twin for hours now.

“Well,” Atsumu stretched out the syllables, thinking how many drinks they already had. Had they reached five bottles? Seven? Ten?

“Atsumu.”

“Ah don’t pressure me Omi-kun! It’s hard ta think with ya staring at me like that,” Atsumu winked at Sakusa, though after seeing the other’s expression he hastily amended, “It was like seven! Seven drinks I think?”

“You’re a terrible older sibling, Miya.”

“That’s just mean Omi-omi!” Atsumu whined. On his side, Osamu started to fall forward, and he clutched his twin with both arms to prop him back up to avoid any accident.

“Don’t make him drink anymore,” Sakusa commanded. “Same goes for you. I don’t want to be taking care of you with a hangover when we have practice the next day.”

Atsumu saluted Sakusa with one hand, the other holding on to a swaying Osamu tightly. “Got it Omi-omi. I knew there was a part in yer stone-cold heart that cared for me!”

Sakusa’s brows pinched once again. “Shut up Atsumu.” He started to walk away from Atsumu, probably going to the bathroom to apply sanitizer again.

As Sakusa walked away, he paused for a bit, but didn’t turn to face Atsumu. “You’re my boyfriend, of course I care about you,” he added, sort of like an afterthought from their conversation. Without considering the impact of his words, Sakusa left, leaving a broken Atsumu and a very drunk Osamu behind.

 _Omi-kun is always so cute_ , Atsumu thought giddily. If he was lucky, maybe he could try to get Sakusa to kiss him later? Shaking himself from his thoughts, Atsumu paid attention to his twin. Where was he again?

Oh, right. He was trying to rile up his twin once again.

Before he could say anything else though, Osamu shot up straight from where he was sitting, taking Atsumu by surprise.

“Ya know, Tsumu,” Osamu pointed a finger in the middle of Atsumu’s eyes, “I’m just as good-looking, if not better than ya!” He prodded Atsumu’s forehead with each word, eyes squinty but clear.

Atsumu grinned. “How would ya even know, Samu? Ya don’t even have a boyfriend,” he taunted.

Osamu turned redder than before. “Tell ya what,” he growled, glaring at his twin and crossing his arms once again. Taking another swig of his drink, Osamu spoke. “Gimme any person ta kiss before midnight, no one’s gonna reject this face o’mine!”

And there it was, hook, line and sinker.

“Anyone?” Atsumu asked in disbelief, not believing the challenge Osamu had just proposed. This was way better than anything he had ever expected, and he knew just exactly what he was going to say.

Osamu nodded cockily. “Pick yer poison.”

“Okay hotshot,” Atsumu smirked. He didn’t even have to think about who to pick. The pieces of his plan were slowly coming in place.

“Akaashi.”

At the sound of Atsumu’s response, Osamu suddenly sobered up, his mind clearing from the alcohol-induced haze. “C-come again?” he croaked, suddenly feeling a pounding in his head start to form.

Atsumu snickered at his twin’s reaction. Maybe it came with the twin thing, but Osamu was painfully obvious with his crush on Fukurodani’s setter. Atsumu had first noticed it when he caught Osamu stealing glances at Akaashi back in high school, when they had their match against Karasuno for the very first time. At first, he thought nothing of it since Osamu had always told him anything. When the next year came and he was made captain though, he noticed Osamu placing a lot more force in his spikes during their match with Fukurodani at the Nationals. It was a weird thing for Osamu to do such a thing, and Atsumu had blissfully ignored these observations -- until now.

When he had introduced Onigiri Miya to Akaashi during one of their MSBY matches, the last thing that he expected to happen was for Osamu to stutter and to conveniently fumble with the food as he served Akaashi. It only got worse from there. When Akaashi had time to visit Bokuto in Osaka, he always made sure to visit Onigiri Miya. Atsumu knew this because he was the recipient of Osamu’s long ramblings about how Akaashi enjoyed his food and became his unofficial taste tester right after the instances Akaashi visited, though he always tried to disguise the topic with the idea of opening another branch of Onigiri Miya in Tokyo.

Osamu didn’t even need to say anything else at that point, having confirmed Atsumu’s suspicions already. He had to confirm if there was a chance for Akaashi to feel the same way, and so he had invited Bokuto over for tonight and encouraged him to invite the other setter along.

It was disgustingly sappy, to say the least. While cleaning the apartment with Bokuto earlier for Sakusa, he had overheard his twin and Akaashi conversing - or maybe flirting was the better word for it. Osamu was a dumb man when it came to these kinds of things, and so Atsumu had decided to take pity on his poor sibling and try to help him out.

If everything went well, his twin would have a special someone right as the new year started.

Osamu really owed him big time if he managed to pull this off.

Speaking of, the sibling in question had turned an unsightly pale white, a sharp contrast from his reddish cheeks earlier. Though his head was still spinning, Osamu had sobered up immediately at Atsumu’s issued challenge. The gravity of the situation had just sunken in, and Osamu had never wanted the ground to swallow him up and beat the living lights out of Atsumu at the same time.

Akaashi Keiji.

How was Osamu going to even try to kiss Akaashi Keiji? Kissing him was tantamount to confessing his long-harbored feelings, and that was not a bridge that Osamu was willing to cross right now.

Damn Atsumu. Nothing really went past his eyes.

Laughing nervously, Osamu looked at his twin. “No, no, no, anybody but him,” he begged, clasping his hands together as if he was deep in prayer.

Atsumu raised an eyebrow at his twin, who had transformed from a dizzy and boisterous drunk to a sorry, whipped and sober mess in the span of three seconds.

“What? Don’t tell me yer scared, Samu.”

Osamu decided to spell it out for him. After all, Atsumu had already seen right through him, and there was no hiding what he felt right now. “And what if I’m scared?”

“Yer so whipped, it’s disgusting.” Atsumu scratched the back of his head — looking like he was regretting the current turn of events. “Man, I thought Ma didn’t raise us to be no coward, Samu.” Looking at Osamu - whose teeth was clenched and still looking as pale as a ghost - Atsumu decided to go for the kill.

He sighed dramatically, lounging backwards and placing his hands behind his head.

“Akaashi-kun?”

Osamu froze. What was Atsumu planning?

Atsumu raised his voice. “Akaashi-kun! Can ya come over here?” Osamu hissed at Atsumu, “Stop it!” only to get a cheeky smile in return.

Sure enough, the sliding door opened, and Akaashi stepped out onto the balcony.

“Why were you yelling for me Atsumu-san?” Akaashi asked, “Sakusa told me to tell you to stop yelling, we’re disturbing the neighbors.

Atsumu checked his watch. 11:57 pm. It was almost time. Grinning mischievously at his twin - who looked like he wanted to slaughter him alive - Atsumu stood up.

“Osamu here,” he clapped his twin’s back, “Has somethin’ he has to prove to me. Why dontcha help him out?”

Osamu gritted his teeth. “Don’t listen to him Akaashi-kun. We were just fooling around,” letting out a forced laugh, much to Akaashi’s concern.

“Well, I’ll be going! It’s already,” Atsumu checked his phone. “11:59! Gotta go catch Omi-omi so we can celebrate the New Year together, if ya get what I mean.” Atsumu wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at the two, Osamu looking constipated from fear and Akaashi looking confused at the twin telepathy that he was obviously excluded from.

Osamu smoldered at his twin brother, his eyes seething with barely restrained anger.

_Don’t expect any freebies from Onigiri Miya after this night is over._

Atsumu’s grin widened and grew cat-like, understanding what his brother was trying to say.

_Let’s see about that._

“See ya later then,” and with that, Atsumu left the balcony, leaving the two alone with nothing but the cold, night air and the symphony of stars hanging above them to keep them company.

_10..9..8.._

Osamu stood up and leant towards the railing, when he felt an arm wrap around his waist, helping to steady him.

_7...6...5..._

“Are you okay, Osamu?” Akaashi looked at Osamu worriedly, who looked like he was about to puke but also pass out at the same time.

_4...3..._

Osamu nodded, now feeling dizzy not from the drinks which had gone to his head, but from the arm that was still holding him in place.

_2..._

“Mind telling me what Atsumu was talking about when I entered?” Akaashi dared to ask, as Osamu didn’t look like he was in any danger from toppling off anytime soon. Beside him, he heard Osamu take a deep breath.

_1._

Osamu closed his eyes, held a hand towards the back of Akaashi’s head, and then next thing they both knew, time had suddenly stopped as their lips met in a soft, unsure, kiss.

Heart pounding like it was about to burst in his chest, Akaashi stood in shock for a second, before responding enthusiastically, pulling Osamu closer by the waist. Osamu felt like he was floating in a dream, fingers finding purchase in Akaashi’s hair, his senses getting overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions rushing in at that moment.

His eyes fluttered open for the tiniest bit, as if to check that what was happening was very real, and that this wasn’t just something that he had dreamed up. He could see Akaashi’s eyelashes pressed firmly against his cheek, and Osamu could only focus on the soft feeling of his mouth against the other, body tingling from the sensations he was currently experiencing.

Akaashi let out a soft sigh,wrapping his arms around Osamu tighter. Fireworks exploded in the background, perfectly matching the rhythm of the fireworks which had slowly built up in his stomach right now. Osamu smelled partly of booze, but Akaashi could still smell hints of vanilla and cotton - presumably Osamu’s cologne - which were warm and comforting to his senses.

Osamu’s body heated up, the excitement and the passion all blending in together, warming his body from head to toe. His hands slowly made its way to Akaashi’s cheeks, fingers cupping his face softly - like he was holding the rarest gem in the world - and he was refusing to let it go. Akaashi felt Osamu tugging on his lip gently, before finally, finally letting go.

The two of them remained wrapped in each other’s embrace, both panting heavily as the stars stood still in the background and the cold breeze feeling mellow to the skin . Osamu let out a ragged breath, heart still beating wildly after what had just happened.

Foreheads resting on each other, Akaashi smiled up at the chef, fingers still tightly wound around his waist. “So,” he spoke in a hushed, teasing tone, as if afraid to break the silence that had fallen upon them. “I think you’ve just made me very curious as to what it was you needed my help proving all along.”

Osamu laughed softly, still a little bit in disbelief over the events that had transpired. “It’s a long story but,” he looked at Akaashi expectantly. “I can tell you all about it through dinner?” he asked hopefully, taking in every inch of Akaashi’s face, committing this moment to memory.

“If you promise to help me make that dinner, you got yourself a deal.”

“Akaashi-kun, I want to date you, not burn my apartment down.”

[Bonus]

Atsumu enters Onigiri Miya the next day with a smirk on his face. Osamu, still hungover, begrudgingly prepares Atsumu's usual order without any charge.

"I'm never gonna drink with ya ever again."

"Ya should be more grateful, y'know," Atsumu frowned, remembering the events from yesterday night. "At least ya got what ya wanted!"

[December 31, 11:59 pm]

"You reek of alcohol. Shower or else you don't get kisses."

"Can't it wait this time? We're gonna miss the clock strikin' 12!" 

"It's already past twelve, you just missed your chance." Sakusa checked the time on his phone. "Happy New Year, Atsumu."

"B-but, Omi-kun!"

**Author's Note:**

> you know i just want to write something deep and soft and inspiring bc thats what osaaka deserves but when i sit down they become two idiots im sorry


End file.
